Dawn in Eclipse Bay

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Darned if I know.” She picked up her wineglass. “Friend of mine told me that the business was a lawsuit waiting to happen. But no one warned me about stalkers.”

  “Well, don’t you worry about it too much.” Mitchell tackled his stir-fry vegetables with gusto. “One thing to be a stalker in Portland where no one notices a guy hanging around places he shouldn’t be hanging around. Another thing to do your stalking here in Eclipse Bay where a stranger gets noticed, especially at this time of year.”

  “He’s right,” Gabe said. “If Witley’s in town, Sean Valentine will find him quickly.”

  “Meanwhile, you’ll be okay,” Mitchell added. “Gabe here will watch over you.”

  Lillian looked at Gabe.

  He gave her his sexy grin. “Won’t let you out of my sight.”

  She contemplated the wine in her glass. “The thing is, even if Sean does find Witley, what can he do? I’ve heard it’s tough to prove a charge of stalking.”

  Gabe and Mitchell exchanged silent looks.

  She frowned. “What?”

  Gabe shrugged. “Don’t worry about Witley. If Sean can’t do anything, Mitch and I will think of something.”

  Her hand tensed around the glass. “Such as?”

  “Us Madisons are pretty creative,” Mitchell assured her cheerfully.

  She looked at each of them in turn. Another small chill wafted through her. They were both smiling, easy, laid-back Madison smiles. Probably trying to reassure her. But there was something very different going on in their eyes. Something very dangerous.

  She did not argue when Gabe suggested that they go back to his place after dinner. The idea of leaving the cottage undefended made her uneasy but the notion of actually spending the night there gave her the jitters. She knew that she would not sleep.

  When she emerged from the bathroom she found him standing at the bedroom window, gazing out into the night. He wore a pair of jeans but nothing else. The sleek, muscled contours of his bare back and shoulders made her fingers itch for a pencil and some drawing paper. Other parts of her were tingling, too, she noticed.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “I had an interesting conversation with Mitch on the way back to Eclipse Bay this evening.” He did not turn around. “Apparently Madison Commercial is more important to him than he likes to admit.”

  “Oh.” She tightened the sash of her bathrobe and sank down on the end of the bed. “I could have told you that.”

  “He said it was proof to the world that he hadn’t screwed up completely with Rafe and me.”

  She thought about it. “I can see where he might view your success as a sign that he hadn’t botched the job of raising you. What did you say?”

  Gabe let the curtain fall and turned around to face her. “That he was the reason Rafe and I made it at all.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  “It’s the truth. I’ve known it for years but I don’t think I ever told him.”

  “Madison Commercial is important to your grandfather, but you and Rafe mean a lot more to him than the company does.”

  Gabe sat down beside her, leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely between his knees. He contemplated their images in the mirror above the chest of drawers.

  “He really is afraid you’ll break my heart,” Gabe said.

  She managed a soft little laugh. “Did you assure him that’s not very likely?”

  Gabe said nothing.

  She stilled. “Gabe?”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t allow him to think that I could really break your heart, did you?”

  “Well, sure.” He said it carelessly, easily, casually. As if it were an incontrovertible fact. “I’m a Madison.”

  She stopped breathing altogether for the space of a couple of heartbeats. With concentration she managed to drag some oxygen into her lungs.

  “Is this your subtle, roundabout way of telling me that you see our relationship as something more than just a short-term affair?” she whispered.

  “It’s been something more than just an affair for me right from the start.”

  She could hardly speak. “But I thought we had agreed that we aren’t a good match.”

  He shrugged. “You Hartes probably worry about things like that more than we Madisons do.”

  “You’re supposed to be a different kind of Madison.”

  He straightened and reached for her, pushed her gently down onto the bed. He leaned forward and kissed her throat.

  “Not that different,” he said.

  The following morning they went back to the cottage together to clean up the studio. There was a message from Nella on the answering machine. It was short and to the point.

  “Call me.”

  Lillian grabbed the phone and punched in the number.

  “What have you got?” she asked without preamble.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you since six o’clock this morning.”

  Lillian glanced at Gabe. “Out. I was out.”

  “Is that so?” Nella sounded amused. “Wouldn’t have thought there was enough going on in Eclipse Bay to keep a jaded city girl out all night.”

  “Nella—”

  “I found Witley,” Nella said, brisk and businesslike now. “He has a rock-solid alibi for the entire time that you’ve been in Eclipse Bay.”

  “What is it?”

  “He and a pal are down in the Caribbean doing some diving. They’re registered at a hotel on Saint Thomas. I checked with some of the local dive shops and I called his room. He was there, Lil. No way he could have flown back to Oregon, driven to Eclipse Bay yesterday and then returned to the island this morning in time to take my call.”

  “I see.” Lillian looked at Gabe, who was listening intently to her side of the conversation. “I’m not sure if that’s good news or bad news because it means we have to start from scratch. But thanks for checking him out.”

  “Sure. By the way, apparently whatever you said to him on the street that day made an impact. I had a long conversation with him. He said he realized that maybe you’d been right about how he needed an outdoor type, not one of those highbrow arty types.”

  Lillian groaned. “He used the term arty?”

  “Uh-huh. He now agrees with you that he and Heather Summers were not made for each other after all.”

  “Well, what do you know.”

  “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Not just yet, but stay tuned.”

  Nella hesitated. “Can you think of anyone else besides Witley who might want to harass you? Any old boyfriends hanging around?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “You know better than anyone else what my social life has been like for the past year, Nella. Boring doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

  Gabe raised a brow. She ignored him.

  “We in the investigation business have a saying,” Nella continued. “When the picture doesn’t make sense, draw a new one. Maybe you should look at these incidents from another perspective.”

  “Problem is, I can’t see any other angle here.”

  Nella hesitated. “You know, if it weren’t for the trashing of your studio yesterday, I’d say that someone had broken into your apartment and your cottage to look for something.”

  “I can’t imagine what it could be. I told you, nothing was taken.”

  “The pieces of this puzzle aren’t fitting well together, Lil. Be careful.”

  chapter 22

  The darkened hallway was lined with office doors fitted with opaque glass. Gabe could hear the din of muffled voices in the distance. The noise came from the large reception room in the intersecting corridor. The Leaders of Tomorrow open-house event was in full swing.

  Lillian stood beside him in the shadows. Her hair was pinned into a sleek, graceful knot at the back of her head. She wore a close-fitting, midnight-blue dress made out of a stretchy, slinky fabric that move
d when she did and a pair of sexy, strappy heels.

  He could think of a couple of other things he would rather do with her tonight than hunt for frozen space aliens. But duty called.

  He checked the bulky camera Arizona had given him. “We’re all set.”

  “I still say this is a really bad idea,” Lillian muttered. “What if we get caught prowling through the new wing?”

  “If anyone stops us, which is highly unlikely given that they’re all very busy with the reception, we’ll say we were curious about the new construction. Big deal. You really think anyone would arrest a Harte and a Madison who just happened to wander into the wrong hallway here at the institute?”

  “You never know.”

  “It’s a lot more likely they’d ask us for a contribution. Stop worrying. You’re a little tense tonight.”

  “I’ve had a very difficult week and now I’m getting ready to look for frozen aliens. I’ve got a right to be tense. I’m supposed to be devoting myself to art, remember?”

  “Take it easy,” he said. “Think of this as performance art.”

  “Yeah, right. Performance art.”

  “We’ll get in, take a few shots of empty offices and get out. Tomorrow we’ll turn the pictures over to A.Z. and she can weave whatever conspiracy theories she wants. That will be the end of it for us.”

  “How do we explain the camera if we’re stopped by a guard?”

  “No problem,” Gabe said. “We’ll say we wanted some souvenir photos of the reception.”

  “It’s a high-tech spy camera, for heaven’s sake. No one’s going to buy that story.”

  “Trust me. I can fake it if necessary.”

  “All right,” she said with annoyance. “Let’s get it over with and get back to the open house.”

  She started off down the hall toward the new wing with long, determined strides. He fell into step beside her, marveling at how well she could move in the sexy shoes. Together they prowled deeper into the bowels of the institute. The sounds of the open house faded into the distance behind them.

  At the far end of the dark passage a temporary door fashioned out of plywood had been installed to separate the uncompleted wing from the main building. A band of loosely draped construction zone tape barred the way. Gabe ducked under the tape and found the partition unlocked.

  “We’re in luck.” He eased the plywood door open and stood aside to allow Lillian to enter. “Ready to boldly go where no Harte or Madison has gone before?”

  She moved into the unpainted hall and stopped.

  “Shouldn’t you start taking pictures?” she said in a low voice.

  “Right.”

  He walked to the nearest door and opened it. There was enough light filtering through the window from the parking lot lamps to reveal the bones of an empty room that was clearly intended to serve as an office.

  “No frozen aliens in here,” he announced.

  “Big surprise.” She leaned around the edge of the door. “Hurry up and take a picture. We’ve got a whole bunch of rooms to cover.”

  He raised the heavy VPX 4000 and snapped off a shot. The flash flared, brilliantly illuminating the small space for an instant. Darkness closed in again almost immediately.

  “Great,” Lillian said. “Now I can’t see a thing.”

  “This thing really puts out some wattage, doesn’t it?” He blinked a few times to get rid of the dark spots. “Next time close your eyes when I take the picture.”

  He went to the door across the hall, opened it, and took another picture of an empty, partially painted interior. When he finished, he moved to the next door and repeated the procedure.

  After a while, it became routine. Open a door, take a photo of a bare office, close the door. Go to the next room.

  “I don’t think A.Z. is going to be real thrilled with these pictures,” Lillian said halfway down the hall. “She has her heart set on finding proof that the government has secretly moved frozen extraterrestrials here to Eclipse Bay.”

  “Don’t worry about A.Z. She’s a professional conspiracy buff, remember? A pro can always find a way to spin the facts into a new theory.”

  He opened the next door in line, raised the VPX 4000 and fired off a shot.

  A woman yelled at the same instant the flash exploded. Not Lillian, he realized. Someone else. This room was inhabited. Not frozen aliens. Warm bodies.

  Two figures were illuminated in the intense light. A man with a serious erection dressed in a pair of red bikini briefs and a woman in a black leather bustier and high-heeled black boots.

  J. Anderson Flint and Marilyn Thornley.

  “Holy cow,” Gabe said. “A.Z. was right. But it’s worse than she thought. Wait’ll she hears that they’ve thawed out two of the frozen alien life-forms.”

  For two or three seconds everyone stared at everyone else. Marilyn, demonstrating the well-honed instincts of a natural-born politician, recovered first.

  “Give me that camera,” she shouted.

  “Sorry, it’s not mine to give away.” Gabe took a quick step back toward the door. “Private property, you know. A bulwark of our constitutional republic. Wouldn’t be right.”

  “I said give me that damned camera.” Marilyn lunged toward him.

  “Give her the stupid camera, for heaven’s sake,” Lillian said.

  She grabbed the heavy VPX 4000 out of his hand and hurled it toward Marilyn the way you’d hurl garlic and a silver cross at a vampire.

  “Let’s get out of here.” She seized his arm and hauled him out of the doorway. “Right now.”

  She broke into a run. Gabe had to stretch a little to keep up with her. He admired her form as they went down the corridor.

  “I didn’t know a woman could move that fast in high heels,” he said.

  By the time they reached the main building he was laughing so hard he accidentally went through the construction zone tape, severing it. The ends fluttered to the floor.

  “A.Z. was right,” he managed to get out between howls. “Strange things going on in the new wing.”

  Lillian stopped and turned to look at him. She was breathing hard from her recent exertion. She watched him for a long moment, a strange expression on her face. You’d think she’d never seen a man doubled up with laughter, he thought.

  “I’d give anything for a picture of you right now.” She stepped forward and brushed her mouth lightly against his. “And to think that I once thought you were a walking case of burnout.”

  The following morning Lillian was still trying to figure out how to deliver the bad news to Arizona. She stood at the kitchen counter in Gabe’s house watching him slather peanut butter onto two slices of toasted Incandescent Body sourdough bread, and went through the possibilities.

  “We could say we lost her VPX 4000,” she said. “Or maybe imply that it was stolen out of the car.”

  Gabe did not look up from his task. “Could tell her the truth.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. No one, not even A.Z., would believe it.”

  “You’ve got a point.” Gabe put the peanut butter toast on a plate. “Some things defy description.”

  “Some things are also actionable. The last thing we need is a lawsuit from Marilyn’s campaign.” Lillian poured coffee. “We have to come up with a reasonable story or A.Z. will invent another new conspiracy theory to explain a second missing camera.”

  Gabe picked up a slice of peanut butter toast and took a bite. “You have to admit that it’s pushing coincidence a bit.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Think about it. Two missing spy cameras. One stolen by force. One confiscated by a politician in a black leather bustier. Both cameras belong to a woman dedicated to uncovering the truth about a clandestine government project housed at the Eclipse Bay Policy Studies Institute. I mean, what are the odds?”

  “You find this all very entertaining, don’t you?”

  He grinned and took a swallow of coffee. “Most fun I’ve had in a long time.
”

  “Great. Wonderful. I’m glad you’re amused. But what the heck are we going to tell A.Z.?”

  “Leave it to me. I’ll handle it. I think I’ll go with the truth. By the time A.Z. gets through twisting it, no one will recognize it, anyway.”

  Lillian took a bite of toast. She chewed on it for a while and then swallowed.

  “Something I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did Marilyn wear black leather bustiers a lot when the two of you were an item?”

  “It’s been a long time,” Gabe said. “My memory isn’t so good when it comes to some things. But I’m pretty sure the black leather gear is new. Probably a political fashion statement.”

  “Probably.” She looked at the unfinished portion of her toast. “You’re good with peanut butter, you know that?”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “Marilyn Thornley confiscated the camera?” Arizona slapped a big hand, palm down, fingers spread, on the laminated map that decorated the table of her war room. “Damn. I was afraid of this. She’s either working with them or she’s one of their dupes.”

  Lillian suppressed a groan. This was not going well. The good news was that Arizona appeared to be back to her old self. She still wore a small bandage but there was no sign of any other physical problems resulting from the blow to her head.

  “Personally,” Gabe said, “I’d vote for the dupe possibility. I can’t see Marilyn getting involved in a conspiracy to cover up dead space aliens and high-tech UFO secrets. She’s too busy working on the launch of her campaign.”

  Arizona squinted a little while she considered that angle. “Guess you know her better than anyone else around here does.”

  “Guess so,” Lillian agreed brightly.

  “I doubt that she has changed much,” Gabe said deliberately. “She’s devoted to one cause and that cause is Marilyn Thornley.”

  “She’s been involved in politics for the last few years, though,” A.Z. mused. “Makes for strange bedfellows.”

  A vision of Anderson in his red bikini briefs flared briefly in Lillian’s mind. “You can say that again.”

  “We’ll replace the camera, A.Z.,” Gabe said. “In the meantime, you have our full report. The bottom line is that there was no sign of heavy-duty lab equipment in the new wing and we found no evidence of frozen extraterrestrials. If those alien bodies were moved into the institute, they’ve got them well hidden.”